


Swipe Right

by OverbearingStruggles



Category: All Time Low, Bandom
Genre: AU, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Hook-Up, M/M, Minor het, Oneshot, Porn, Slash, Smut, Stand Alone, Tinder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 14:19:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7225927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverbearingStruggles/pseuds/OverbearingStruggles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You have had some weird dates? Man! This one time I met up with a dude from Tinder."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swipe Right

**Author's Note:**

> Simple concept inspired by an AllTimeFanFiction anon. Credit to this article (https://mic.com/articles/108998/here-s-what-happens-when-a-bisexual-man-changes-his-gender-on-tinder-to-female#.0z51JH75r) for making me aware this is an actual thing (and it is awesome!). Super special thanks to Emily (Mibba: kickthepj) for being a patient beta on this monster!
> 
> Comments and concrit are welcome and appreciated!

Alex wasn’t great at the friends with benefits thing. In fact, he was total shit at it.

One night stands? Sure, great. In, out, off, done. But when trying to have a regular hook-up with a girl who understood exactly what it was - an easy go to - he always messed it up. He developed feelings. He got attached. He got jealous. It just never worked and he _tried_ . God knows he’d been trying, but he was cursed with always turning it into a _thing_.

Feelings were more Alex’s forte. He had a lot of them and they were insistent, resilient, and often problematic. He fell easily. If he wasn’t ruining his friends with benefits attempts with trying to make them more serious, he was ruining actual relationships by falling smitten to the next girl. Feelings, man.

As a social, confident guy – with great hair, thank you very much – he didn’t need any help meeting people. He was pretty staunch on staying away from dating apps despite their popularity because seriously, that shit was lame and only creeps were into that. He’d met a couple girls on Instagram and that was cool because it was natural. They liked each other's photos, started messaging and eventually got together. And, eventually after that, Alex’s feelings got in the way and that was the end of that.

But Tinder? Guys like him didn't belong on Tinder. The idea was laughable. You should go out in the world, meet people, experience them, have a conversation.

Except, well. Tonight, Alex doesn’t feel like going out and striking up a conversation. He is pouty and alone and has no desire to make small talk just to try to get laid. After another awkward ending to something that should've been stupidly simple, sitting alone swiping on Tinder just kind of... happens. A bottle of red wine lends a solid hand in the idea, so it’s maybe not the most sober or emotionally stable decision.

He doesn’t want to admit it at first, but it is kind of the solution he has needed. A couple of simple messages make it clear if a girl is into just a hookup so he doesn’t have to play the game of getting to know too much about her and worry about picking his heart or ego up off the floor. With some of them, he barely even has to be charming as they are just as upfront about what they want. He can get off with a hot girl without learning enough about her to grow attached. Tinder itself has become his friend with benefits and it is saving him time, money, and heartache. Fucking score.

It doesn’t take Alex long to get over his embarrassment of using a dating app. Calling it a “dating” app seems kind of wrong since this is strictly hooking-up and the “date” part is pretty much lost, but whatever, it is everything he’d been looking for. Everyone is easily classified as "bangable" or "not even with the lights off” which was the simplicity Alex and his feelings needed.

After two weeks he even manages a regular. Her name is Lindsey, she is a 23-year-old brunette who looks great in and out of yoga pants, can come more than once on top and that is pretty much the extent of Alex’s knowledge. It is all that matters. Seriously, everything he wanted.

Whether he goes out or not, ending his day with a late night swipe sesh becomes the norm.

Right. Left. Left. Check out photos… Right. Guy.

Whoa, what? He is taken aback seeing an unmistakable dude. Definitely male. Did he fuck up the settings? No. Not possible. This dude - Jack - did _he_ fuck up his settings? Nah, again, not possible. He must be… trolling? As a girl? Which is a super weird and super shitty thing to do. What an asshole. Alex is ready to swipe right in hopes that they match just so he can tell this Jack as much.

He also notices they have a bunch of similar interests.

Clicking to expand his profile, Alex sees they both like some random shit (Call of Duty, Coors, Game of Thrones) some cool shit (Baltimore Ravens, Fueled by Ramen, Fender Guitar) and a ridiculous amount of bands. The profile blurb reads “ _Embracing the inappropriate. Not looking to get pregnant. Let’s party._ ”

If this guy wasn't being such a dick with his trolling, Alex might be interested in being friends with him because he seems kind of amusing. Too bad he is so shitty doing whatever this is.

As Alex swipes through the photos, he grows - not _interested_ , but - a little intrigued. He has a similar style to Alex and obviously lives in the scene. Swooping haircut with bonus bleached patches: check. Girl jeans: check. Brand New shirt: check. He even plays guitar. Why did he have to be such a dick?

Alex clicks the heart in the top corner of the app but no match screen pops up. Fuck him anyway. It is probably better he doesn’t get in fights with random douchebags on fucking Tinder. He goes through a few more profiles – all seemingly female, as expected - before calling it a night.

When Alex wakes up he checks his phone as usual, returning a few texts, scrolling through the same bullshit on the socials, and lastly, checking Tinder. He’d sent a couple of messages out before going to sleep so hopefully he'd have plans set for the night.

"Motherfucker." Not only did that _guy_ , Jack, match with him, but the asshole had sent a message. A _friendly_ message.

 

_Hey. Best music taste I’ve seen on here. Favorite drive-thru band?_

 

“Seriously?” Apparently Alex now talked out loud to himself due of the shock of this whole situation.

 

_Look, man, I only swiped on you to tell you what you’re doing is weird and fucked up. Fix your settings and leave everyone alone._

 

Before Alex can finish replying to other messages Jack responds.

 

_Not looking for a fight. Maybe u saw something you liked_

_Have you seen new found glory?_

 

He is seriously going on like nothing is wrong. Like he hasn’t been called out and this isn’t weird. Alex’s temper flares at how casual he’s being.

 

_Dude stop. Stop being creepy and stop harassing people._

 

This was just not cool. How bored did someone have to be to even try this?

 

_Whoa harassing? U swiped on me too._

_btw Good charlotte hometown pride. Respect_

 

Alex puts his phone down for a minute. This was really not how he saw this going.

It was pretty cool they could talk about the scene and music. That was safe. It’s not like Jack (was that even his real name? Did it matter?) is sending him explicit messages about gay sex. He isn’t being aggressive.

 

_NFG is the best. The 930 Club show a couple months ago was fucking awesome._

 

Alex hesitates but sends the message. He doesn’t think about why. This is  the closest to a real conversation he has had on Tinder since he started using it.

 

Then it kind of falls back into familiar territory. Except not, because. Dude.

 

_Hell yeah!_

_We should hang out man. Catch a show_

 

Alex cannot believe this is real. If he were on here to make a new best friend it would be awesome, but this is so weird. He isn’t mad anymore, but he has to shut this down. What did this guy expect to happen?

 

_Um, thanks but no thanks. I don’t think we’re here for the same reasons. Good luck man._

 

He doesn’t feel like he needs to be a dick anymore but this just isn't what he had planned for his Tinder usage. At no point was _casually hang out with a cool guy_ on the agenda.

 

_Seriously let's grab a beer and talk music. There's a local show I’m going to tomorrow… or we can talk girl jeans and hair straighteners. It's up to u_

 

He is persistent. And, did he just crack on Alex’s style? Okay, maybe some points earned there.

And really, the thing for Alex is, being attracted to guys isn’t anything new. It has never been much of an urge, it just _was._ Something that could sit quietly in the back of his mind. He knew he wanted to date girls and would probably eventually marry a girl. He'd had a few joking make outs with guys and really, hot is hot no matter what you’re working with downstairs. A guy might drift into his mind now and then when jerking off. It just wasn't a field he thought too much about exploring unless he was supremely wasted or it came up naturally, so actually pursuing a boy never made sense.

He had spent so much effort thinking about how this dude was a total jerk for playing whatever this stupid game was and popping up when he didn’t at all expect it that Alex let himself be distracted. This big nose kid rode a fine line between goofy and cute. And if Alex let himself admit it, the tiny bit of possible charm he had, the eagerness. It was swaying his judgment.

This weird world of technology and swiping is natural in modern times, right? The Alex of a month ago would’ve thought differently but, now? And the chance that it’s _this_ guy - this particular guy - with the music taste, those clothes and yeah, maybe the looks. And he doesn’t even know what Jack’s intention with this is. Maybe he is just looking for friends, which, again, weird as fuck... but, eh?

Alright. Okay, fuck. Alex is giving in. He waits all day to reply, but he eventually gives in.

 

_Ya know, I’m not convinced you aren’t some guy who's going to harass/murder me. This whole thing is kind of sketch._

 

Within minutes, Jack replies. Does he fucking live on Tinder?

 

_I want to send you a picture give me your number_

 

Alex has to consider it but there is something about him. Any guy who likes Simple Plan cannot be that bad. He just can’t. So, fuck it. He sends the digits.

The text he receives features the boy from the profile flipping him off with a dildo halfway down his throat. Fuck. What the fuck.

“Oh, fuck.”

Followed by, _I sure hope this is Alex from tinder and not some random dad’s phone._

Alex stares at the compromising picture, eyes trying to focus on everything on display. It is stupid and hilarious but he's lying if he doesn’t acknowledge the way his stomach flips and his dick twitches. He replies.

 

_Alright. This is fucking crazy but yeah, let’s hang. Where’s the show?_

 

Alex contemplates canceling all day. He has gone over all the reasons it is perfectly logical not do this. So many reasons. He can’t help but go back in his texts and look at the first one from Jack. There are some pretty insane scenarios floating through his mind that he is poignantly ignoring.

On the other hand, he might not get the shit beat out of him, get to talk bands, and get to see a good show. Also, maybe get blown. _By a dude_. But that’s one of those things he's ignoring. This could be okay.

Alex typically runs on his own schedule, but in this unique situation he decidedly arrives at the bar early to scope things out, settle in and grab a drink. If he wasn’t excited by the weird plan he wouldn’t have come at all, but that doesn't mean he isn't nervous.

Meeting up with friends at a bar show: Cool. Normal. Totally. 

Meeting up with a guy from a dating app who was sneakily trying to talk to straight guys: Weird! Why? No!

And that’s exactly what it is. _Meeting up with a guy from a dating app who was sneakily trying to talk to dudes_. He wouldn’t dare even think of this as anything else.

“Hey, Alex!” Alex looks up from his phone to a toothy smile below two-toned hair, a prominent nose, and eyebrows thick enough to battle Alex’s own.

Alex rises from his stool, suddenly completely unsure of how to proceed with this greeting. With girls, he always goes in with a light, friendly hug. Here, he's frozen. Jack puts his hand out and Alex catches onto the bro hug. It’s exactly what he would’ve done with his friends. He really needs to relax.

The part of Alex that initially wanted nothing more than to tell this dude off never gets a chance to show up since the first thing Jack says is, “Dude, please tell me you saw the last Game of Thrones. None of my friends watch week to week so I have to keep that shit to myself and it’s the worst.”

The conversation flows from there and despite Alex’s reservations, is undeniably easy. Jack is funny, if a little excitable. He loves Blink-182 more than anyone Alex has ever met and sometimes lets out this ridiculous hiccup-sounding laugh but is welcoming. He whips his head to the side to adjust his bangs every so often and never goes very long without baring his teeth in a full smile.

Somewhere after Alex’s third drink, between the second band and sharing stories about learning guitar, he decides he has to ask the obvious.

“So seriously, what’s with the Tinder thing? Why are you doing that?” He doesn't mean to be a dick but at this point, he is genuinely curious. Jack is pretty cool and they seem to click so unless it's a dare or prank, he isn’t seeing the reasoning.

“Dude, straight guys’ profiles are fucking hilarious, for one. Puppies and grandmas and hot chicks in their photos, like what the fuck?" Alex is immediately relieved he doesn’t have any of the mentioned on his profile. "But I just wanted to see what would happen. It’s all kinda predictable. I mean, random dick pics are great but. This. This has been pretty cool.” This goofy kid is ridiculous but sounds so earnest. Alex might’ve even felt his heart tug a little bit, though it's probably just the drinks.

“And when the hell else am I gonna be able to change my gender so easily?” Never, Alex considers. For one split second, he imagines Jack as a girl and it's so terrible he is immediately glad for the dude in front of him.

“Aren’t you worried about getting your ass kicked?” Alex had his own concerns about this one meeting, how was Jack doing this regularly- _if_ he was doing it regularly? Alex worries too much for that kind of game.

Jack shrugs. “I’m cautious,” he says with this simplistic confidence he diffuses anytime the conversation feels a bit too serious. “I’m sure you get enough shit with your tight pants and highlights. I don’t give a shit about anyone who's mad about who I’m fucking. What’s the point?”

The truth was, Jack wasn’t sure what he was getting himself into when he started this gender switch venture but so far so good. And Alex is fucking hot. He had a few other options but went a little more aggressively with him and it seemed to be paying off.

“Plus, you didn’t look that menacing.” Alex rolls his eyes. “And you were too hot for me not to try.” Alex nearly chokes on his drink. Jack doesn’t seem to notice – or he doesn’t acknowledge it – and continues talking.

“Why’d you swipe on me? Don’t even say it was just to fight.” His tone is light but there's sincerity behind his eyes.

He had so clearly been the one starting shit and now he was questioning Alex? For real? “It was- It was to tell you that you were an asshole. Having a boy pop up is fucking alarming.”

“Buuuut?” And there is that persistence again. Which was… becoming endearing? Alex didn’t hate it, even if he liked pretending he did.

Alex narrows his eyes at him, “But _you_ didn’t look menacing, either. You liked cool shit and dressed like the kind of asshole I’d steal clothes from.” There’s that smile again, Jack looking content with the answer.

Jack _is_ goofy, but he is also genuine. Alex _is_ attracted to him, and the more they talk, the longer he stares, the louder they laugh; it is becoming evident. He is letting it take over and alcohol is lending a hand.

Alex is naturally affectionate and the more intoxicated he gets the more affectionate he becomes. He is lucky it has never gotten him in trouble. He is much more charming than skeezy, so girls don’t get creeped out. With his bros, he just gets shrugged off and laughed at. But with Jack, it is different territory. It is the first time Alex is allowed permission to be handsy with a guy without taking jokes and being swatted away.

Once he starts to comfortably slump on Jack and nuzzle his neck towards the end of the third band, Jack makes the executive decision to head out early.

“So, do you wanna get out of here? I’ll catch the last band another time.”

Alex feels light and airy. That giggly drunk state full of smiles and pawing at your own skin. “Lead the way.”

When the Uber pulls up Jack opens the door, waving Alex in. “After you.”

“Such a gentleman,” Alex’s sarcasm doesn’t quite come through in his drunken speech. When Jack slides in Alex curls right against him.

“Hey man, you’re sure you want to do this?” Jack asks. He definitely wants to do this, but he doesn’t want anything to be forced. He wants to show guys a good time and let them explore their curiosity, not scare them into repression.

Alex pulls back, mock offended. Squinting his eyes he ducks in and licks a stripe up Jack’s long neck. It’s playful but gets his answer across wordlessly because Alex doesn’t even want to think any of it right now, let alone say it. He’s not sure he knows what _it_ is but the parts of him that are pressed to Jack are buzzing and he doesn’t want that feeling to stop.

Jack laughs, deeper and less flippant than earlier, eyeing the driver in the rearview. “Alright. Cool. My place isn’t too far.”

Alex has no idea how long it takes to get back to the apartment but he’s preoccupied himself asking the driver about his night, telling Jack he smells good, and playing with his own hair. He’s a ball of scattered energy.

When they arrive at their destination Alex crawls out of the car on his own side and has a brief, sobered moment, registering where is he and whom he’s with. He’s drunk enough to allow himself not to freak out right now but he’s not so gone that he’s stumbling or slurring or blacking out. It was a conscious effort not to go that far in the chance that Jack was a young, hot, pop-punk serial killer.

It’s a hazy assuredness. It’s awareness of easily overlooked details. Aware of the way Jack simultaneously opens the building’s entry and turns back to smile. More than aware of how badly he has wanted to kiss that smile for a while now. And Alex is extremely aware of how he’s thinking he’d like to feel that smile other places.

“You want something to drink? Or like, a poptart?” Jack asks as he shrugs out of his hoodie and tosses his keys on the counter. It’s a dichotomy that’s amusing but overall describes what he has learned about Jack perfectly, he thinks.

Jack flips on a light over the kitchen sink that hardly illuminates the rest of the small room. It’s cozy, kind of all in one. The kitchen in one corner, the start of the living room a few steps away.

Alex laughs, declines the offer and follows Jack over to the couch. It's dark enough that he’s almost lose Jack if he weren’t trailing so closely.

Once they sit, Jack is in his space immediately. “Hey,” he says softly, before leaning in.

At some point, this became exactly what Alex wanted, so he does a good job of going with it, his personal struggle letting him not seem too eager, though. If he had let himself think about this moment (his first kiss with a guy in a real way), Alex would’ve predicted it would start out awkward - it’s still what he’s expecting right before it happens - but it isn’t. The other times he has kissed guys it was at parties, with audiences or for dares. Being alone in someone’s apartment is new terrain, except for how it really isn’t. He has had plenty of first kisses in other people’s (girls’) dark apartments and cars and hallways. It is the same as any other first kiss. A little different at first, figuring each other out, mapping out the feel and taste and angle, but like any worthwhile make out it gets good pretty quick.

Alex registers large hands threading through his hair. The hint of scruff tickling his skin. The suggestion of dominance. He can taste whiskey on Jack’s tongue and smell his cologne. There are these traces that feel distinctly male, but when it comes down to it, Alex likes kissing and Jack’s mouth is warm and that’s all that matters. It feels fucking great.

Jack is running his tongue along the roof of Alex’s mouth, Alex is licking back and chasing his way to the back of Jack’s teeth. Alex groans with Jack nipping at his bottom lip and meeting Alex’s tongue there to soothe the spot. He does it again, pulling a little this time and when he lets go Alex finds himself panting against Jack’s mouth, trying to catch some air before diving back in. It’s _good_. Alex is hot all over and it isn’t just from the alcohol.

He makes the next move, running his hands down to the hem of Jack’s shirt and lifting it off. From there, he rests his hands on Jack’s sides before realizing he isn’t sure what’s next. The make out is hot, no question, but it is a precursor to… something? Jack doesn’t seem to be in any rush.

Alex pulls a hand away to run it over his cock, needs a second opinion to his tightening jeans that his body is reacting the way he thinks it is. He is turned on and it’s okay. Better than okay. It’s not just his mind buzzing anymore but his body is absolutely in. He is reacting to every swipe of Jack’s tongue, the graze of teeth, the way hands are everywhere - over knees, under the back of his shirt, lightly up his neck and roaming in flat ironed hair – but never too invasive.

When they pull apart again, Alex squeezes himself through his jeans, buries his smile in the crook of Jack’s neck. “Fuck, man.” Rapt.

“Yeah,” Jack adds with a nod, sounding just as breathless. It’s small but reassuring. Feels good to know it’s not just him. Alex instantly feels a little less guarded.

“I. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I’m doing.” Jack gets what he means and earns a lot of credit for not flat out laughing at him.

“So, you’ve never been with a dude?”

Alex finds the question a little ridiculous. “No, I haven’t _been with_ a dude. I’ve. I’ve done this before, kinda. Kissing, whatever.” Alex mostly isn’t freaking out. Except he hasn’t had to speak in what seems like hours and he really doesn’t want to be talking about this. Talking about it, _discussing_ it, is too much.

That mixture of excitement and readiness Jack has comes through again. “Yo, it’s cool. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But I do want to blow you so, are you cool with that?”

Fuck. Holy fuck.

This is - he was cool with that. Totally. It was one of those insane possibilities that he fought to the back of his mind all day because, hello, weird and insane things he should not be thinking about. This was the best case scenario for the night and he needs to get on board with the fact that it is actually happening.

Alex only nods in response. Has too many jumbled thoughts to speak his approval.

Jack stands, offering a hand, “Come on. Not here.” Alex smiles because, seriously, such a gentleman. He leads them through a doorway next to the kitchen and into his room. He leads Alex to the bed, turning on a dim light in the corner before going for Alex’s jeans. Alex tries to help, pulling off his own shirt and letting Jack handle the rest. He’s careful, dropping tight jeans on the floor and lowering strained boxers.

Jack slips his own jeans off and Alex can feel his reaction being watched - like Jack is aware Alex could run at any moment so no movement can be too abrupt - and it’s too much right now. Alex grabs at Jack and kisses him, needs the reassurance and distraction. He makes his way down Alex’s body. A couple of soft bites, a few wet swipes and one bruise sucked into a hip before he’s breathing over Alex’s cock. Alex appreciates the thoroughness, the attention to detail. It doesn’t just feel like a rush to get off.

Jack doesn’t tease. He takes hold of Alex’s cock, sucking lightly on the head before going down as far as he can, holding for a moment and letting spit run down to his fingers. He pulls all the way back up, his hand following the slick path and then goes back down, working up a steady pace.

Holy shit. Alex is moaning already.

Jack’s grinning when he comes up for a second, stroking slowly and he must know Alex is falling apart. Alex looks down and brushes at Jack’s hair hanging in his face, not unlike Alex’s own and not unlike some girls he’s marveled at in this position. He moves his hand to trail fingers over the back of his neck and his stomach knots at that smile he’s been staring at all night.

He goes down again and begins working his mouth and hand together in earnest and it feels fucking incredible. Alex is less surprised at how good Jack is at this than at how good it’s making him feel. Everything has him shorting out. Jack’s mouth is expertly handling what it can get to while his hand works the rest of Alex’s dick and every few bobs he comes up to lick at the head. It’s making Alex release these tiny whimpers that he doesn’t mean but that he also doesn’t want to hold back. It’s sloppy and wet and tight. This is probably the best fucking blowjob of his entire life.

Jack leans down to mouth at Alex’s balls briefly, using the hand free of Alex’s cock to palm at them before returning his mouth to his dick. Alex’s voice is high-pitched and breathy, “Oh fuck. Yeah, Jack. _Fuck_!”

He runs his hand down Alex’s ribcage, over his hip, across his thigh and back up to cup his balls. It’s sending shocks through Alex’s whole body and he’d been doing so good at keeping still but he can’t help the way his hips start to shake.

He looks back down - honestly, to marvel at the fine work his dick is receiving right now - when he realizes Jack’s moved a hand off him and it looks like. Wait, is he?

“Are you - fuck - are you touching yourself?”

Alex gets his answer in the form of a moan around his cock and _oh my god_ that’s good. The vibrations, Jack’s tongue, tight palm, just how much Jack is into this - everything is amazing and he is an incoherent mess of “fucks,” “uhs,” and Jack’s name. He has one hand in his own hair and the other rubbing over Jack’s back, running through his hair and squeezing at his shoulder.

“Uhh. Dude, I’m. God. _Fuck_. I’m gonna come.”

Jack pulls off in favor of letting Alex’s hips rise, jerking him through it and watching. He looks so fucking good. His hair is even messier and his chest is heaving. His stomach is striped with sticky white and Jack is so fucking hard. That might’ve been the best head he has ever given.

He stands to finally pull off the boxers he so politely kept on to keep from weirding out his date too much - although he seemed interested a minute ago - crawls up to lay next to Alex and grab his own dick. He’s so turned on. He’s been hard since Alex started moaning his name so it’s easy to slick himself with pre-cum and the wetness he’d used on Alex.

He’s not dragging this out, bending his knees a bit and hurrying his hand over his cock.

Alex relaxes, starts to catch his breath and has an obvious smirk covering his face. Alcohol buzz and orgasm buzz have him serene and easy.

Jack is focused, so concentrated on his own motions he doesn’t notice when Alex stirs out of his bliss, staring. Alex distantly thinks he should be freaking out. Freeze. Gag. Fight. Instead, he is rolling to his side and reaching out to tentatively touch Jack’s bony hip and bite at his shoulder. The details of this scene are unfamiliar – body hair, hard cock, bassy groaning and lack of curves - but Alex knows sex and sexy things and getting off and touching and he can do this. Wants to do this. Wants to be here.

“Don’t you want me to,” Alex doesn’t even know what he’s offering as he rubs Jack’s side, words muffled in skin. Doesn’t quite know what he can offer.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I just.” Jack breathes in sharply and sighs because he’s not really capable of explaining himself right now. He sounds raspy, a little desperate, amazing. Alex understands.

“I just need to come.” He gives Alex a once over before closing his eyes and picking up the pace. Jesus. It makes Alex shiver. He watches with wide eyes as Jack’s hand glides over his cock. His head is pushed into the pillow underneath and he’s making the tiniest groans and exhales. His lips swollen, mouth open just a sliver. More sober than he has been in a while, Alex is fixated. It’s unlike anything he has ever seen, ever been this close to.

He has to touch more, so he slides his hand to the crease of Jack’s thigh, far enough in that his knuckles brush the soft side of balls and it feels daring. He curls into Jack, mouthing across his collarbone, licking along, and steadying over a nipple, breath warm over wet skin.

“Fuck Jack. This is so hot. You look so good.” He wasn’t the one with a dick down his throat but his voice is rough, trying to stay low and even.

It’s sudden when Jack comes, Alex’s name on his tongue as his body tenses. Alex is mesmerized. Immediately he knows that image and those sounds are going to ring in his mind for weeks – if not the rest of his life – to serve as jerk off material.

The few minutes it takes Jack to catch his breath and come down give Alex time with his own thoughts. He’s thinking that Jack looks kind of beautiful and he wants to snuggle closer to his warmth and the night’s combination of intoxication and orgasm have him spent and sleepy.

Jack’s on the same page because he reaches for Alex’s arm, tugging to wrap it over his side as he turns over to face away, turning off the bedside lamp. “You might as well sleep here. It’s late.” He shifts into position as the big spoon and smiles against Jack’s neck, no desire to argue.

When Alex wakes up after a few hours he’s acutely aware of the crusted spots on his torso. He has a headache and all he wants to do is go home and shower. He quietly gets his shirt on, holding his jeans in his hand before realizing Jack is definitely sprawled on top of his boxers. He feels really weird about that but doesn’t want to wake him, isn’t about have this moment.

When he wakes up the second time - post shower and aspirin - in his own bed, he knows he’s fucked.

This is the first time in almost a month he has stayed the night with anyone and gotten to know them before. It wasn’t _just_ sex. And that thought alone is throwing him for a loop because no, it wasn’t just sex, it was sex with the _guy_ he accidentally met on _Tinder_. It was never supposed to be sex at all.

But anyways, it wasn’t just sex (with the guy he met on Tinder), it was going out and laughing and talking. It was paced and intense and charged. The whole night was much different than what he’d been doing lately and _then_ throw in the guy factor on top of all that. What the hell?

Alex knows he wants to see him again. He wants to hang out because that part was awesome and easy. Jack seems like a really good dude and they totally clicked. Despite what Jack’s intentions might have been, he was cool and didn’t put on any pressure to do more than hang out. Alex shouldn’t have even let it get to where it did.

Maybe he needed to take alcohol out of the equation. He knew he was more, uh, _friendly_ , when he’d had a few. Jack wasn’t even really that attractive, with his stupid grin and lanky frame and nose that got in the way while making out. They could totally hang out platonically and have a good time.

And if Jack wanted to go for round two on his dick Alex would have no reason to stop him.

Wait. Shit.

Maybe he needs to avoid Jack entirely for a little while. Get his shit straight – no pun intended – because this is too much right now. He’s thinking too much. He grabs his phone for a distraction and goes straight to Tinder. There’s a message from Kylie, who he hooked up with last week and she wants to meet again.

Perfect. Probably just what he needs.

Alex makes his plans for the night and tries not to think too hard on the last 24 hours. He is doing a good job, excited to be out again, focused on a cute blonde. He is doing great up until he’s got her bent over him in the backseat of her cramped Civic, her mouth warm on his cock but not quite as tight as Jack’s and her hands smooth but not quite as skilled as Jack’s. Shit.

He mentally gives himself a pep-talk. Needs to get it together, enjoy this because there’s no reason not to. He is still getting laid and it’s still good. Kylie is petite but has a great rack. She is tight and soft and sounds amazing. When they fuck, Alex is behind her, pressed close as she lifts her hips to ride the line of his dick.

“God, Alex. Right there. I’m so close.” She wasn’t shy about sex and that was hottest of all.

Alex doesn’t mean to, doesn’t want to think about what it means, but as he’s staring down at the writhing figure, watching his dick slide in and out, he thinks about what that must be like. What it might feel like to be bent in half, pressure on his back, slick drag sliding, someone’s hands in his hair and on his hips. Not someone’s though, he’s knows not just _someone_.

It’s a surprise even to himself when he comes. He pulls out, sitting near the window and reveling in the few moments his mind is a pleasure-filled blank slate. It takes him a second to realize Kylie has moved to a similar position and has a hand between her legs, throwing him an annoyed look. “Here, lemme,” Alex reaches out but she’s already starting to shake from her orgasm. “Oh. Uh, shit. Sorry.”

He’s only a little embarrassed.

She recovers quickly, clasping her bra back on already and Alex hasn’t fully gained control of his brain yet. Has no choice when last night’s scene replays: Jack moving and shuddering against him, finishing with throaty noises and looking so pleased after.

It takes three more days, two ignored texts from Jack and one more less-than-satisfying hookup before Alex decides he needs to get over it and get it over with. He’s thinking about Jack, yes, but also thinking about the physicality of it all. It was different. It was really good. It was fun. Alex was allowed to have to fun. If fun means touching a dick then he should… stop thinking about this altogether.

More importantly, he really liked that pair of boxers and he would like to get them back sometime. Jack was actually kind of rude for not offering them back in one of his eloquent texts of “Hanging out was cool” and “Hi.”

Alex would just pretend he didn’t get those, anyways. He knew he was being shitty. He felt shitty. He felt it and he spent the last four days trying to reason that away. It hadn’t worked.

 

_Hey I left something at your place_

 

First, he writes “the other night” instead of “at your place” but it feels too... specific. Like he is showing that days later he is still thinking about that night – and, he is, but – but the other way sounds less indigent. He needs to feel this out first.

 

_Your dude virginity?_

 

Alex wants to be mad, wants to be disgusted. He feels a twist in his stomach and fuck, why did he decide doing this sober was a good idea?

 

_My boxers, jerk_

 

The response he gets is laughable but he didn’t know what he was expecting. If Jack suddenly started acting all dignified it’d be way weirder.

 

_Oh, I thought you left them on purpose. My keepsake_

 

Or maybe Jack really did think that. Alex doesn’t know what other guys do in these situations.

 

_eh, commando isn’t really my style. They were trapped underneath you._

 

The picture he receives of Jack’s hips with his own boxers riding low on them is almost predictable but nonetheless effective. He kind of likes how flirty he’s being. Makes it easier for Alex to go along with it. He can handle this.

 

_oops now they’re trapped on me. if u want them back ur gonna have to come get them off ;)_

 

Alex dramatically rolls his eyes, but truthfully, there isn’t anything he wants to do more, and he isn’t – he doesn’t feel like acting like he doesn’t. He had a great time with Jack, from the show to his bed, and if Alex tries denying any of that his body betrays him every time. A flush down his neck, a curl in his gut, a twitch of his dick.

 

_Tonight? Your place? I’ll bring drinks_

 

If Alex is going to do this then he is going to fucking do it. He has spent days now playing all of this out in his head and what it really comes back to is exploring what has always been there. He is over feeling weird or guilty or whatever.

 

_Yeah sounds good_

 

Well, that was easy. Fuck the last few days in his head, this did not need to be that big of a deal. He is excited to see Jack and see how they’ll be alone for a while. If he is that great then they’ll get along. He is prepared to just see how this will go. Maybe the other night was a fluke. Alex would be okay with that. He’s used to building things up in his mind and then watching them crumble. If this was another name to add to the list, well, he’d deal. He always did. It was his fault for getting too caught up, anyways.

Alex doesn’t have enough hours in the day to feel too regretful about his decision and that might’ve been a conscious effort. Anymore time to dwell on expectations or wants or feelings or guilt. He just doesn’t need any of that.

He sends the text that he has arrived and Jack meets him at the entrance. Alex is glad he has his hands full with the liquor and his phone because, again, how are they supposed to greet? How is this the thing that keeps tripping him up?

Inside the apartment, Alex unloads the bag and realizes he might’ve gone a little overboard for the two of them. Jack doesn’t seem to mind. “Holy shit, you covered all the bases. Nice.” The counter is covered with Coors Light, Jack Daniels and a couple of bottles of wine.

“I take my duty as drink buyer very seriously.” Actually, Alex was distracted walking through the store and couldn’t make up his mind on what he wanted. That seemed to be becoming a theme in his life.

“As you should. I’ll just take a beer for now. Come join my Madden party.” Alex follows Jack over to the couch, takes a moment to look around as the place is better lit than last time from the glow of the flatscreen. There’s a framed Blink-182 poster on one wall, a couple of hoodies thrown haphazardly on a chair, a mixture of DVDs and video game cases in a corner pile.

Alex is settling in well. They mostly comment on each other’s playing and talk shit about how bad the Ravens season is going until Jack pauses to grab them both another beer.

“So, any more Tinder dates?” He wags his thick eyebrows and Alex can’t help his obvious eye roll, relaxed smirk dropping. He doesn’t want to know about any of Jack’s escapades and hopes that’s not where this is going.

It is also an annoying question so maybe he needs to play up his answer.

“Yeah. A couple, actually.”

Jack nods. “And you still ended up texting me.” It’s lighthearted but it’s also a fact.

“Are your feelings hurt, Jacky?” Alex is sure he is some random hookup to Jack, a player in the weird game he had started, he doesn’t think he needs to be delicate with any of this.

“I’m just saying, I gave you an amazing blowjob and sexy show and you didn’t even return my texts. I figured dicks turned out not to be your thing.” Jack shrugs and settles back onto the couch.

Alex takes a drink and they go back to the game. He is mulling over his response because as much as he doesn’t want to actually talk about this - thought he wouldn’t have to - he is here and the intentions have never been hidden. Jack has no idea what he has been going through these last few days and it just doesn’t seem like a thing they needed to discuss.

“I still wouldn’t call dicks my _thing_.” He is staring intently at the tv screen. “But I did have a good time the other night, so. Yeah.” He’s pretty sure his effort at sounding nonchalant is working well enough. “And I really wanted to get my boxers back.”

“No, no! Shit fuck!” Jack is yelling as Alex is about to score another touchdown in the game. Already Jack’s attention has shifted from the conversation and Alex is relieved by it.  Alex is totally kicking his ass, though, and he’s feeling smug about his game skills. He’s focused and having such a good time talking shit to Jack he has started relaxing into that comfortable hang out zone. It’s cool. They riff off each other and laugh a lot and any of the anxiety Alex had about them hanging out has completely dissipated. They continue to drink and it’s just easy.     

Not nearly long enough after, Jack groans. “Alright, alright. Dude, you’re fucking killing me. I quit.”

Alex cackles, honestly having too much fun. “Aw, come on! We gotta finish otherwise it’s not official.”

“Alex, it’s 34 to 10, I think it’s pretty official.” Jack has already set his controller down and is walking into his room. “Anyways, don’t you want your boxers back or what?”

He waits for a minute for Jack to return but it seems to be an obvious gesture and Alex is thrown back into the reality of what this is. “You are not smooth at all! I want you to know that. You are _not_ smooth.” Alex calls out to him as he decides to follow. Knows he has to. Knows he wants to.

When he gets to the doorway he sees Jack half laying on his bed with his feet on the floor, staring at his phone lighting up his face. His shirt is riding up just a little and there’s just a sliver of light coming in from the kitchen, but Alex can, in fact, see _his_ boxers on Jack’s body.

“Oh, you were fucking serious? You know that’s kind of weird dude, to wear my shit.”

Jack finally puts his phone down and sits up, “I can see why you’d want them back. Super comfy.” And there’s Jack’s ridiculous smirk. Fuck, somewhere in the back of Alex’s mind he has missed that.

Alex has thought too much about this now to back out. The invitation is here, he’s going to take it. He has thought about Jack’s lips on his, scruff scratching skin, sharp hips and hard cock and, yeah, he’s doing this. He is absolutely over being shy or nervous. It’s going to be different than when he’s with girls, but there’s no reason he has to lose his dominance or confidence. He is generally not afraid to go after what he wants and this shouldn’t be any different.

He climbs over Jack like he knows what he’s doing, knees bracketing thighs, and bends down to softly nip at Jack’s bottom lip. Last time, Alex had his nerves and conscience subdued from drinking and while he’s got a bit of a buzz now, feelings and thoughts are much clearer. Also, he’s got more control now than he had at any point that night.

He takes the kiss deeper and their movement together already feels familiar. Jack licks and bites, his hands resting on Alex’s lower back keeping him from sliding away but not at all pulling. Alex takes it there, driving his hips down with purpose and not allowing himself a moment of hesitation. “Fuck, Alex. Yeah,” Jack’s breath is hot against Alex’s mouth.

Alex’s hips start moving slowly, grinding and feeling Jack getting hard against him. It’s different, everything about this, but it’s _good_ . Alex kind of likes being on top and feeling smaller. He likes the physical evidence he has of Jack being into this and he _really_ likes the friction it’s getting him. Jack is keeping his hands light over hips and thighs, seemingly happy to follow Alex’s lead. Alex feels good. He’s turned on and his skin is getting flush and warm, he’s sucking and licking at Jack’s neck when he’s not panting against skin and his jeans are starting to feel like a torture device.

He slows down the intensity of the kiss and Jack goes with it. “I um. I think you should fuck me.”

It isn’t a bold declaration. He says it muffled between light kisses and shallow licks but he notices the way Jack’s eyes grow. He’s looking at Alex a little wildly, surprised. Alex doesn’t let it phase him, too into this feeling right now as he leans back and pulls off his own shirt. “What?”

Jack smiles wide, nods, speaks evenly if a little ragged, “Dude, fuck yes,” and mimics the action.

Alex is so into this. He’s not about to let nerves get to him. Determined because he knows what he wants. Knows this is something he wants to try. Something he’s vaguely thought about. Wondered.

He cups Jack’s clothed dick and it feels daring but draws a groan from Jack that only makes him more brave. Alex has no interest in being a tease, wouldn’t want that for himself right now, so he leans back a bit, opens Jack’s jeans and tries not to stare at his hand finding Jack’s half-hard cock, hot and attentive, pulling it out and tentatively touching.

Jack is doing a great job of being encouraging but not too eager, releasing quiet sounds of approval. He seems to be aware of Alex’s need to move at his own pace and he’s trying hard to abide. He falters, pushing his hips enough get Alex to stroke him a few times.

Alex didn’t get to do any of this last time and now he wants to take advantage. He wants to do so much but maybe not all at once. His head is spinning already just from palming a dude’s hard cock. It’s a little much.

“Hey. If you’re trying to have a staring contest I guarantee you’re gonna lose.” Jack sees Alex becoming overwhelmed. It might be cute if it didn’t involve his dick standing at attention for the room to gawk at.

Before Alex can respond Jack catches his mouth again. Knows there’s a tension and he needs to diffuse it. He is somewhat a master at that and Alex would be envious if he could think about anything other than the obvious right now.

Jack grabs onto him and flips them so he’s on top. Familiar territory, in a way. Being underneath Jack is definitely more familiar for Alex than jerking a cock that is not attached to his body _and_ trying to figure out if it’s more comfortable for his wrist to position his thumb on the underside of that unattached cock.

“Turn over.” Jack’s voice has dropped and, oh, he’s pulled from his thoughts, mindlessly following the order. His brain seems much more content to have someone else make its decisions.

Alex hears the ruffle of Jack discarding his own clothes and wastes no time reaching under Alex’s body to his undo his tight jeans and tug them down. He’s slightly more delicate going for Alex’s boxers, cracking some joke about adding them to his collection.

Jack leans down and bites playfully at his shoulder. His hands are everywhere before gliding up the backs of Alex’s thighs to rest on his ass. It’s really the first time anyone has paid this kind of attention to his ass and it’s weird and he isn’t sure what to do.

He feels himself being spread and doesn’t have time to think about what’s happening before he feels Jack’s tongue licking wetly over the tight area. Alex tenses, exhales slowly and works on figuring out this sensation.

Jack laps a few more times, licking longer stripes up. He even flattens his tongue and starts right behind Alex’s balls and that makes Alex practically squeak. The air and Jack’s breath are hitting the damp, untouched skin making Alex shiver. He releases a deep moan before Jack’s hands are pulling more and his tongue is pushing _in_ and _oh my god_. Alex’s hips jerk and his breath hitches. “Oh shit. Holy shit, Jack.”

He is doing so much Alex can’t keep up with the details. There is a faint brush of hair against the top of his ass, Jack’s bangs probably falling all over. He’s licking and pushing and pulling and _swirling_ and fuck.

“Jesus fuck.” It’s slurred, muffled into his forearm.

He registers when something changes, becomes tighter as a finger that had been rubbing around and teasing the line of his ass gets pushed in. It’s slow, pressed along Jack’s tongue as he takes his time working it all the way in.

This isn’t exactly the first time Alex has been touched like this. Of all the girls he’s been with one made the venture during a blowjob once. It wasn’t something he’d asked for and he wished he’d had more of a warning but he never forgot the way he ended up pressing back and grinding down. His orgasm was powerful and sudden with her mouth around his cock and finger in his ass. She kept stroking inside while he was coming and it was intense and brilliant. He remembers feeling on fire. He’d tried to do it himself once but he couldn’t get comfortable and couldn’t get deep enough and he was thinking so much. It was definitely better left up to someone else.

And here he was now,  spread out with his dick hard between his stomach and a bed, feeling wetness at the tip and not getting nearly enough friction. Jack moving slowly, patiently, but pushing his tongue further into Alex’s body and working him open with two fingers now and – and _fuck_ – and it’s unlike anything he has ever felt.

“God. Dude, fuck. That feels really fucking good.” Alex sounds wrecked already.

He feels the smile against his skin before Jack’s pulling his mouth away, fingers still working. He’s reaching up to his bedside table and Alex can guess what for, although he doesn’t want to put too much thought into it. Thankfully, Jack’s still being distracting elsewhere.

“I know, right? Next time it’s your turn.” And that’s. Alex can’t even think about that. The idea of touching Jack like this. Fucking Jack. Being with him again. It makes more than his dick react.

Jack moves his mouth up to Alex’s neck and pulls him from his thoughts. He feels the third finger, slick, and pushing in. “Relax, it’s gonna get even better. It’s gonna suck a little first, but it’s worth it.”

Alex believes him. Doesn’t really doubt him for a second. He’s slightly bothered right now with the stretch he feels. Yeah, it burns and is uncomfortable, sure, but every few strokes Jack touches something in him that makes him yelp and shake, forgetting about the burn and it makes him wonder how it’ll feel in a few minutes when it’s Jack’s cock there.

“How do you feel?” he asks as he adjusts his wrist, fingers working at Alex more aggressively. Alex knows it’s important to communicate, it’s just that Jack’s done such a weirdly good job of reading him he hasn’t felt much of a need to be vocal.

“I uh. I’m okay. I think I’m ready. Yeah, I think you can…” Alex trails off but Jack swoops in. “I can stick my dick in you?” Alex rolls his eyes and is glad Jack can’t see his grin, makes it easier to seem unamused. “Well, when you put it like that.”

Jack manhandles him a little, pulling on hips to shift him up from his flat position against the bed. Alex is on all fours, Jack between his legs, and it’s exciting and terrifying. Kind of like all of this has been so far.

Jack leans down to bite at his shoulder but when he does Alex feels his dick again, now fully hard, latex-covered and pressed against his thigh. Even through the rubber it’s warm and unyielding. Realizes now more than ever what’s about to happen and holds in a whimper but presses back. Doesn’t mean to, it’s involuntary, but. But it’s not untrue.

“Alex.” He’s already got his full attention but the intensity draws a chill.

“Hmm?”

“I’m totally gonna fuck you now.” And it’s definitely supposed to come out as a joke, but Jack’s voice is a little too raspy and low and even though Alex lets out an annoyed sound he swears he gets harder.

Jack begins pushing in slowly. So slowly. Alex is just trying to breathe, trying to relax. It takes some time but Jack goes about halfway before he stops to pull back out just as slowly. He’s getting an A+ in patience and gentleness. It takes a little more time before Alex is sure he won’t break. Has a fleeting thought about times girls have let him do this and has a whole new appreciation for each of them.

Complete sentences are no longer an option but once he's completely sure they can continue he lets Jack know as best he can. “I think. You can. A little more?”

The first time Jack pushes all the way in Alex gasps. It’s weird, so weird, and uncomfortable is an understatement, but he believes it has the potential to be so good. Jack is running a hand over Alex’s thigh while he waits for his cue to move. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the obvious but Alex is distantly aware of Jack’s relaxation attempt.

It takes longer than Alex expects but once they can finally build a rhythm it’s fucking stellar. He and Jack are in sync with their push and pull of hips, Alex feeling comfortable to add movement and not just staying stiff getting fucked. The drag he feels inside is awkward and strange but his skin is tingly and flush so it's also pretty amazing.

Jack’s letting his hands roam more, no longer needing to keep the guidance of Alex’s hips. Every so often he reaches around to skim Alex’s dick and make him whimper.

“Fuck, bro. Feels so good. How are you? Is it. Is it okay?” Jack’s voice is rough and Alex has a hard time concentrating.

It feels really fucking good but Alex can’t seem to get everything angled just right. He’s been twisting his hips trying to find something better, can tell it’s close but he’s still searching.

He steadies himself on one hand, reaches back and grips Jack’s hip, slowing the thrusts as he continues to shift. He sits up a little, more so to stretch his back than anything but it changes everything.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, Jack. Go back. I need.” And he’s pushing Jack back but following him, ends up with knees spread even further and in Jack’s lap. “There. Fuck, right there.” He sounds breathy and fragile. Overwhelmed.

“Alex, holy fuck. Seriously? Shit yes.” The adjusted position seems to have Jack’s approval. Now, he’s deeper, chest pressed against Alex’s back. He can moan into his pulse, grasp tighter to his chest and when Alex leans enough to the side he can lick into his mouth. Alex has more control like this, being able to rise and grind and goddamn _bounce_ even. He’s got one hand pressing against Jack’s wall for leverage while he plays with this new angle - finding it’s exactly what he needs - and the other behind him, gripping the back of Jack’s neck.

Alex is so close now. He’s losing rhythm and panting in between groans. Jack’s hot, strained noises are in his ear and he’s got a hand between Alex’s legs that’s teasing inside his thighs and around his balls. He feels when Jack’s hips snap more sudden, fingers clawing into his thigh and hip and feels the twitch of Jack inside him when he comes. It’s a weird sensation but Alex finds it incredibly hot. Fuck, he wants to be there too.

Jack’s body stills as his hand wraps around Alex’s cock. “Are you ready?” He’s panting hot against Alex’s skin and Alex just can’t. Manages to moan out a “Please. Jack. Yes,” and doesn’t have the presence of mind to care about begging.

He moves his hand up the back of Jack’s neck, fingers tangling in soft, sweaty hair at the nape. Jack’s hand is a bit sloppy, as is his mouth on Alex’s neck and jaw, but it’s all incredible. Alex comes so hard he swears he blacks out for a few seconds - has to pry his eyes open after the aftershocks because they’re so heavy – and he sees the pillow he has just ruined.

Jack slumps on him, cheek resting on Alex’s shoulder now as they steady their breathing. Alex groans when he lifts up, feels Jack slip from his body and it’s one of the most awkward things he’s ever experienced in his life.

“Aw, pillow,” Jack peers over his shoulder before he moves from the bed, heading to the bathroom.

As Alex waits for his turn in the bathroom he sets the come splattered pillow on the floor. When he gets up there’s already a dull ache setting into places he didn’t know his body had. It’s not bad, but evidence of the night. He’s glad when he gets his chance to clean up a bit. He is also sticky in new places and that is a reminder he does not need.

After, he heads back to the bed and settles on his back, worn out and ready to sleep- forever maybe. It had been a long, unique day.

“So?” Jack isn’t even trying to hide his grin. It’s a little smug and a lot cute.

Alex takes a deep breath. He’s not feeling nearly as weird as he would’ve thought and figures he must just be over that. He did this. He made the decision, and honestly, it was worth it. Fuck it. “If I knew gay sex was this good I would’ve batted on the other side sooner.”

“Hey. Gay sex is also just sex. And sex is awesome. It’s even more awesome when my dick’s involved.” Alex doesn’t disagree but Jack obviously doesn’t need his ego inflated.

“Sorry about your pillow.” He isn’t really sorry but he is trying to change the subject.

Jack shrugs. “That pillow has seen things. It’ll survive.” He’s stretching out next to Alex now, turning on his side to face him in the dim light still pouring in from the kitchen. “More importantly, I would’ve never known you hadn’t ridden a dick before. Seriously, that was some expert shit.”

“Jesus Christ,” Alex is more than a little embarrassed at the phrasing and turns to bury his face in a pillow. “Well, I’m tired as fuck from ‘riding your dick’ so if you don’t mind I’m going to sleep.”

Jack definitely does not mind. “Maybe, this time, don’t run out without saying goodbye. Y’know, since that was pretty rude. Fucking straight guys.” Jack giggles at himself.

Alex has no response. He’s too spent and what he did before doesn’t matter now anyways. He kisses Jack to shut up him up before saying, “Sleep,” and turning over, allowing Jack to snuggle up behind him.  

This time, Alex manages to sleep through the night, not waking till the smell of coffee is focusing his senses. He starts to stretch and winces from the twinge of pain he feels from last night. He faintly thinks it’s a discomfort he could get used to as he slides his boxers on, stepping over the pillow he’d marked last night and cringing at it.

He heads out to find Jack pouring a cup, clothed just in boxers himself.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Jack’s voice is gravelly, he probably hasn’t been up long.

“Hey. Smells good.” Jack opens a cabinet to pull down another mug.

As Alex is pouring his coffee he realizes he’s not sure of the parameters he should be following here. It’s been a while now since he has stayed the night with someone, and of course, it’s never been quite like this. Usually when hanging out leads to sex and spending the morning together, one morning leads to many mornings and-

“How does your ass feel?” Apparently time of day doesn’t matter, Jack does not bother much with tact. It has pulled Alex from a weird train of thought so he’s mostly glad. He laughs awkwardly, taking a long sip of his coffee.

“What are your plans for the day?” he asks, choosing to avoid the question altogether.

“Dude, I actually wanna go look at guitars. I have a friend who said he might be able to hook me up. You should come. If like, your ass can handle it.”

“Enough about my ass! But yeah, I’m down for that.” Alex is only a little annoyed at the comments. Nonetheless, he is excited to look at guitars and honestly, the ease of hanging out with Jack ain’t bad either.

This is now the first time they’ve hung out stone sober and it’s pretty great. Jack feels like an old friend. They can laugh about video games, reminisce on bands they’ve both seen and just generally bro-out. Alex doesn’t even think about the sex or his attraction because being with Jack is still like being with one of the guys and truly, it’s a non-issue.

He can’t see himself holding hands with Jack or slinging an arm around him. He doesn’t want to play with his hair or stroke his cheek. Not in the way he’d be doing with a girl, anyways. He might do those things to his guy friends but not in the same way, not with the same affection. He doesn’t have a quiet static in his mind or the flutter in his stomach he usually gets with someone he _like_ -likes. This is just, friendly.

They head to some music shop and meet with Jack’s friend. “Zaaaaack?!” Jack wails across the store. An older guy at the register rolls his eyes and points down an aisle. Alex gets the feeling Jack’s big personality is known around here.

When they head down the aisle there is a muscular, curly-headed brunette and he’s playing the hell out of a bass. “Zack!”

“Hey man! Heard you from a mile away.” Zack gives a shy smile, doesn’t at all seem phased by Jack’s overzealous. The comment makes Jack give one of his small hiccup laughs and he smiles proudly.

“This is my friend, Alex.” Alex is thankful for the way it doesn’t show on his face but has a moment registering being called a “friend” and it’s. It’s nice? It’s normal. He feels like they’re friends, has felt like his friend all day. Alex is enjoying the ease of this moment.

None of it feels complicated by the sex.

Zack smiles and nods his direction. “You were killin’ on that thing,” Alex compliments because seriously, he was. He can appreciate some good bass playing, and that was good.

“Oh, thanks. You guys should’ve stayed for the set the other night. It was so good, we might finally get Rian to join.” Zack beams a little, clearly excited to talk about the show. Jack cuts in, laughing about this Rian and finally starts asking about guitars.

Their conversation instantly becomes garbled and distant to Alex. He feels his face flush a little and is glad the other two aren’t paying any attention because he’s putting pieces together and feels a little dumb and lot embarrassed. He’s upset. Upset someone _knows_ anything about him and Jack. Upset Jack didn’t tell him they were at his friends’ show. It feels shady in the way it did when Jack first popped up on Alex’s phone and he feels that anger and shock boiling up.

He’s snapped out of his train of thought when Jack asks him - for what can’t be the first time, based on the look on his face - “What about this one,” holding some dark purple guitar Alex doesn’t have the presence of mind to care about. He half-focuses the rest of the time in the store but he’s itching to get away.

Thankfully, Zack is kind of quiet, definitely not on Jack’s level of constant excitability but seems cool. He’s knowledgeable about instruments, gives Jack good suggestions, and doesn’t mention the night Alex and Jack met again.

Once they leave the store – empty handed and Alex doesn’t even catch why - he’s reeling. Jack is bouncing around, excited about the trip but Alex isn’t sharing his enthusiasm. Jack’s babbling about something, finally stating that he’s starving and they should get food.

“I’m not hungry.” He sounds bitchy. He knows it and he doesn’t care.

Jack speaks slowly, “Oh. Okay. Hey bro, what’s up? You kinda spaced out back there?”

Alex doesn’t think twice before he lets loose. He feels so stupid for being taken along. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me we were at your friend’s show. Or that someone knew you were meeting me there. Or that someone knew I _left_ with you. I shouldn’t have done any of this.”

Jack doesn’t hesitate with a response but it’s calm and conversational. Not nearly on Alex’s level. “Well, I wasn’t going to meet a stranger from the internet without letting someone know. That was a perfect place and if anything got weird I knew Zack would be around,” he explains.

“You’re just a liar. This was all a mistake.” Alex doesn’t say anything more. He's holding back but only because he doesn't _need_ to explain himself. This is just a stupid mess.

When the silence sits for too long Jack chimes back in. “I didn’t know what I was getting into. There was still a tiny chance you’d show up just to kick my ass. I mean, trolling straight guys on Tinder is fun but kinda risky.” He’s so calm and not at all defensive. It’s really the opposite of Alex’s approach which makes him think.

Alex goes to speak. He wants to be mad. Wants to fight. Until he realizes Jack isn’t wrong. What he did wasn’t wrong. It was actually smart. Much smarter than Alex, who had casually and secretly met up with a _guy_ from _Tinder_ and that could’ve gone wrong in a thousand different ways.

“What are you even actually mad about? What did you think was going to happen?”

It’s the first time Alex has been confronted with this question and he hesitates for a long time. He knew what he was doing when he came over last night. The thoughts tried to sneak their way to the forefront of his brain when he woke up but he managed to hold them off. Then the day had been so easy they weren’t even whispering under the surface. But now, he's thinking about it. He’s being questioned about it. It’s only fair he give an honest answer.

“You’re the first person I got to know on Tinder.” He’s quieter, unsure of what he’s offering.

“So, you hadn’t met up with anyone?”

“No. Yeah, I’ve met up with girls, but. But I was just hooking up with them. Like, just sex, no hanging out. Definitely no spending the night.”

“Okay. So?” Alex feels guilty. He starts to realize where this is going, the familiar path that he’d been so careful to avoid and now he looks guilty but Jack isn’t following.

“I don’t wanna fuck another dude.” It’s blurted out. Alex is trying to gather his thoughts but sometimes they come out of his mouth before they’re in any sort of reasonable order in his head.

“So, don’t? I gotta say man I’m not really following you.” Jack is being incredibly patient. For a guy who is so persistent he has been pretty understanding and resolute.

Alex finally pauses. He should work more on making sense and not jumping to conclusions and feelings, so he pauses and poignantly does not look at Jack because he quickly realizes he’s about to embarrass himself and will take anything to lessen the blow.

“Usually, when I get close to someone. Girls,” he specifies, feeling the need to come back to how this situation has been different for him. “When I get close to girls I fall really fast and it never works out. Tinder had been cool because I wasn’t getting close to anyone, I was just,” he trails off, not wanting to finish that sentence. Not really wanting to finish this conversation but he was already in too deep.

“Getting off,” Jack offers.

“Yeah,” Alex finally smiles even as he rolls his eyes. He can feel the focus Jack has on him and it’s unlike anything Jack has even seemed capable of up until now. It’s kind of intense.

“Alex. Do you even _want_ a boyfriend?” Jack looks incredulous. It’s a fair question. The perfect question, maybe, because Alex. Well, Alex hadn’t thought of that, if he _wanted_ it. He hadn’t done much thinking about this whole situation at all but the way everything was coming together it was usually the natural progression. It always had been with girls. The sex and hang outs, the relationships and breakups.

The breakups. He didn’t want that.

“Dude, look at me and Zack. We hook up sometimes. We’re friends. It’s honestly that simple. Don’t complicate it.”

And when Alex met Zack it wasn’t something that even crossed his mind. Not at all. Would’ve never even guessed he and Jack had anything more complex going on. But, it wasn’t complex, and that’s what Alex is trying to wrap his brain around.

Jack’s outlook seemed too simple but maybe it was just right.

They could be friends. Bros. They could get each other off. Most importantly, Alex didn’t want to date a dude, so why was he trying to date a dude? This might be perfect.

“Shit. This might be perfect.”

He was getting worked up over anything he could. Jumping to conclusions, trying to reconcile his feelings, or in this case, his lack thereof. Maybe it wasn’t always feelings that got in his way, maybe it was just his brain and a constant stream of thoughts. He needed to throw himself one way or another and for no good reason he had just tried attacking Jack for… what?

“So, we can keep…” Alex paused, letting the rest of that thought hang.

“Hooking up? Hanging out? Hell yeah, man. All of that.” Jack said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like he never had anyone question him on this.

“If we are going keep hanging out, though, you’re gonna need to stop trying to fight me all the time.” To Jack’s credit, he tries to look serious for a half second before flinging his bangs to the side and grinning.

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe you can stop shocking and annoying me and I won’t have to.”

 

********

 

It has been almost a year since the weirdest week of Alex’s life. Currently, he and Jack are settled at a bar, practically gawking at what appears to be an awkward first date. It is not going well but entertainment level is at an all time high.

“Look at her _face_. She’s dying. She knew she made a mistake as soon as he walked up.” Alex might be smirking he’s really feeling for the poor girl. The guy is bombing.

“Oh my god. Did he just say she reminds him of his _mom_? Holy shit.” Jack is whisper yelling in Alex's face, both of them starting to snicker.

“What the hell are you two giggling about,” Rian puts his arms around the pair, already starting to join the infectious laughter and not even knowing why. Since the weirdest week of Alex’s life, he has officially joined Zack’s band and become one of Alex’s better friends.

Jack grabs Rian’s head, bringing his ear down to mouth-level. “We’re watching this disaster of a first date. Dude, it’s so bad.”

Now that they’ve clued Rian in he’s sympathetically joining in. “Oh, you can see it. She’s ready to bolt any minute.”

“I can't. I can't watch this anymore. It's so bad.” Alex is almost cackling now after catching another glimpse of this girl's face. “You ready? I'll drop you off.” The two say their goodbyes to Rian, promise him they’ll be at the next show and head out.

Once in the car, still amused, Jack pipes up. “I've had some weird dates in my day but damn. That was bad.”

 “ _You_ have had some weird dates? Man! This one time I met up with a _dude_ from _Tinder. That_ was weird.” Alex is sure to over-emphasize for dramatic effect. Needing to grate Jack a bit.

Jack is giggling again. “Yeah? Well one time I took a straight guy home and fucked him so good he never left me alone. Like, I can't get rid of the dude.”

Alex plays mock offended,”Wow. Can't get rid of him? What a way to talk about your best friend.”

Jack straightens up, gets serious for his explanation. “Well I mean, once he got the hang of blowjobs I had to let him stay.”

Alex doesn’t miss a beat. “If he heard you talking like this about him he'd probably revoke all privileges to those fantastic blowjobs.”

“Good thing he's not here and I've got this other hot guy taking me home. Enough about him. I'd rather talk about blowing you.”

Since the weirdest week of Alex’s life, he has perfected one friends with benefits relationship, and it happens to be with the _dude_ met on _Tinder_.

 


End file.
